


The Strange Visitors

by tablelamp



Category: John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme
Genre: Aliens, Gen, Humor, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: Well, since you ask me for a tale about strange visitors from another world, I did have an experience once the relation of which I believe you will find diverting.





	The Strange Visitors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starfishstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/gifts).



Well, since you ask me for a tale about strange visitors from another world, I did have an experience once the relation of which I believe you will find diverting. One night I was readying myself for sleep, as I do every so often. Very often, come to think of it. Roughly once a day.

At any rate, I was wearing my lovely stripy pyjamas and cuddling Mr Floofywhiskers Junior. Mr Floofywhiskers Junior is, like Mr Floofywhiskers Senior, a horse who believes he is a cat. However, Mr Floofywhiskers Junior is a toy horse and thus much less vocal about it. I did try to train Mr Floofywhiskers Senior to sleep on the foot of my bed as a young lad, but found that his purring disturbed the neighbours.

I had nearly nodded off when suddenly my bedroom was flooded with the most extraordinary white light. "By Jove!" I thought. "Those are dashedly bright LED screens at London Stadium!" Then I remembered that LED screens hadn't been invented yet. For that matter, neither had London Stadium. Nevertheless, the light remained. I clutched Mr Floofywhiskers Junior closer.

"Hello," I said. I thought this was rather adventurous of me considering that I had no idea why my apartments were suddenly flooded with light of an unknown currency. At least, I assumed currency had to be exchanged to provide that sort of illumination.

Then, as though emanating from the very air itself, a great, deep voice filled the room. _"Finnemore. Prepare to be transported."_

This was a peculiar opening gambit for a conversation, but I stood firm with my customary valour and powerful, commanding refusal. "Ah, thank you very much, but I'd rather not. Unless you mean transported into the land of slumber, in which case you may see to my transportation."

There was a pause. _"That is not what we meant."_

"No," said I. "I thought not."

_"Have you not seen the signs of our coming?"_

"Erm...did you leave signs? Because if you left one on the front door, you must know that I assume all things posted to my front door to be solicitations and dispose of them at once."

_"Our signs are not physical. We provide those we contact with portents that warn of our coming."_

"Ah," I said. Had I received any portents lately? I could not think of any. My kitchen had developed rather a peculiar odour, but I was beginning to suspect that might have something to do with the milk in the cupboard I'd bought six years ago. A portent from six years past could hardly be considered timely. "No, I haven't received any portents either. I am dreadfully sorry."

Strangely enough, the stentorian voice that filled my rooms was beginning to sound a bit annoyed. _"Haven't you felt urges?"_

I blushed modestly, a bit reluctant to discuss such things. "Well, I should think many chaps at one time or another..."

_"No, no. Urges to go outside and stare at the night sky. Urges to build structures...out of your food perhaps?"_

"No," I said. "No, I don't recall having the urge to build structures with my food. I do spell words with my alphabet soup. Will that do?"

 _"No, it...hang on a minute."_ There was a strange rustling sound. _"Gerald? Where's the documentation on this human?"_

Another voice resonated in the room, a voice that I presumed belonged to the mysterious Gerald. _"I don't know. Where did you see it last?"_

_"He's not experiencing any of the signs."_

_"Well, that's not really my department, is it, Rupert?"_ Gerald said. _"Try Ermengarde."_

 _"Ermengarde, have you been giving this bloke the portents?"_ Rupert asked.

 _"Of course I have."_ This must have been Ermengarde speaking, although I could see none of the speakers. However, I could hear them extremely clearly.

_"He says he hasn't got them."_

_"Let me see that,"_ said Ermengarde. There was another slight rustling. _"You are Mr Finnemore?"_

"Yes," I said. "And this is Mr Floofywhiskers Junior. He's a horse who thinks he's a cat." I would have introduced them to Mr Floofywhiskers Senior, so introducing them to his relation seemed the only polite thing to do.

Sadly, Ermengarde did not seem the least bit interested in Mr Floofywhiskers Junior. I gave him a comforting hug to reassure him that I thought no less of him for that. _"Mr HMS Finnemore, at 5 Shrewsbury Lane?"_

"Ah," I said, beginning to see the difficulty. "No indeed. I am Mr J Finnemore of 5 Shropshire Lane. It is a commonly made mistake." It wasn't, but I did want to spare Rupert's feelings, as he had already spent so much time on me.

 _"Bloody hell, Rupert, you nearly transported the wrong Finnemore!"_ Ermengarde did not sound pleased.

 _"Well, I didn't, did I?"_ Rupert snapped.

 _"That's the third time this month, mate!"_ Gerald said. _"What's going on?"_

_"I don't want to talk about it."_

"Excuse me," I said politely.

 _"Is this because you broke up with Kzzx the Destroyer?"_

_"I said I don't want to talk about it!"_

"Erm, excuse me," I said. "I do beg your pardon, but...I'm still here."

There was an awkward silence. They had forgotten me entirely. Not that I blamed them; on the contrary, I found their ongoing conversation jolly dramatic. I would have forgotten me too. Well, if I hadn't been me. Which I was.

 _"Right,"_ Ermengarde said finally. _"We're sorry for the inconvenience, Mr Finnemore. Have a pleasant evening."_

With that, the light went out in my rooms and all was quiet and still. Before long, Mr Floofywhiskers Junior and I were sleeping soundly.

I never did find the source of that mysterious light, or discover to what realm Ermengarde, Gerald, and Rupert might have transported me. But every night, when the sun has gone down and the stars shine brightly, casting their dazzling rays across the heavens and bringing light to our darkened world, I stay indoors and studiously avoid looking at the night sky. I wouldn't want any portents of mine to bring those three back. Goodnight!


End file.
